


Because the Night Belongs to Us

by JenovaVII



Series: Snowball's Change Universe [1]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenovaVII/pseuds/JenovaVII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My alternate ending for Vol. 1, Ch. 3 'Embrace the Heat of the Night.' What if Takaba had answered, honestly, "Yeah. I'd like to spend the night together," instead of going all tsundere on Asami?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because the Night Belongs to Us

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Volume 1 - Chapter 3

_His profile. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, the smoke slithering around him. His hands, his touch; warm, strong. Those sharp, piercing eyes. Dark bangs of silk falling. His voice in my ear; my name on his lips._

_It makes my skin crawl every time the memory surfaces. I thought it was in disgust; I assured myself it was in disgust. And it_ is _but... but there's more to it than that._

 _It hurt. It hurt a lot; those actions that fill me with shame._ But. _But I can't help my hands from slipping inside my pants, from slipping under my shirt. I close my eyes and stroke myself and it's him under my lids, it's him inside my mind._

_And then I come._

*

Feeling himself being deposited on softness that he recognized as his long striped pillow, Takaba came to, in time to, on pure impulse, attach his fingers to Asami's jacket - _-_ very much like a cat extending and contracting his claws. His voice won the race against his brain and the question was out before he had even conceived it. "Y-You're leaving?" Eyes widened in surprise at his own actions, but it was too late for turning back.

"What? Would you like to spend the night together?" The teasing eminent on Asami's half-smile.

Takaba let go of the fabric in his grasp and a still shocked gasp left him, as he looked up at Asami, as Asami looked down at him. His self-defense mechanism was whimpering and wriggling and ready to lash out, to deny it at full-throttle, disregarding such a thing as impossible; that he was merely tired from having run from those men earlier and had just spilled some half-asleep crap.

But that arrogant smirk ticked him off, pressured him in all the rightfully wrong ways, and he wanted to see Asami caught off his guard for once; to see that unchangeable expression twist in something other than amusement. So instead of his natural instinctive reaction, he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and felt his face heating up as he held his chin high and looked right into the man's eyes. "Yeah. I'd like to spend the night together." He seriously hoped his voice wasn't as hoarse at it sounded to his own ears.

Of course, it didn't go as he wanted; everything always had to backfire. He got a pair of eyes that narrowed, and a set of lips that climbed up further still. _Uh-oh._

And then he hadn't even said goodbye to the bed and was already being lifted in the air. "Hey, put me down _!_ "

"No need for a scandal. I'm getting a towel from the bathroom - _-_ you at least have one, yes? - _-_ and I will not leave you here, all alone, for you to have time to run away." Asami's voice was smooth, calm, yet unrelenting, like waves, as he looked around for the door to the bathroom. Takaba's place wasn't big but what space it had, it was full. Drying photographs pended from frail lines that traversed high from one opposite wall to another; paintings and portraits and still empty borders leaned against book-flooding shelves; and a desk topped by scrambled papers and a computer that looked older than both of them together. Everything was chaos, except one single corner; where a show case, in which glass and wood came together, kept the photographer's camera collection safe.

"This is _my_ house, asshole. Why would _I_ be the one to leave?"

"Inviting me so cutely. Obviously, with the objective of throwing me off. Now that it didn't work out as you wished, you wouldn't hesitate to jump off of the boat without looking back."

Two hands on Asami's chest, pushing away. "Don't be talking as if you know me, you bastard. And don't carry me like a woman _!_ "

Asami turned his attention back to Takaba at that. His hair was mostly dry already but still a lone droplet of rain slipped from the end of the strand crossing his nose to Takaba's collarbone with the swaying movement. "What makes you think I'm carrying you like a woman? The act of carrying a person is the same, regardless of their gender. You didn't strike me for a sexist, Takaba."

"I'm not _!_ It's... J-just put me down _!_ I can walk _!_ "

"Can you?"

"Yeah, I can _!_ "

Takaba wobbled but steadied on his feet shortly. Grinned proudly. Looked up. "See?"

There was only a flash of a smirk, before Asami bent down and kissed him deep, wringing a train of moans. Hearing himself Takaba snapped his eyes open, trying to remember when he'd closed them while palming Asami's jaw away from his throat. "If you know I wasn't serious then back off. You've already done whatever you wanted. Don't you have anywhere to be? Drugs to smuggle? People to shoot?", he snarled, more forcefully than not.

"Interested in my affairs, Takaba? I remember you have yet to tell me all about the data that you so efficiently erased from the MO drive. Feel like talking now?" Asami's baritone was mocking, his question rhetoric. Takaba's chin held up in his grasp, wild hazel eyes dancing, looking straight at him, into him. Yes, the boy certainly had it in him. He suppressed a grin of pure satisfaction.

Wriggling, an attempt to flee from the inescapable, Takaba puffed out a nervous scoff. "When I first heard about you I thought you'd be a really unapproachable big shot. You looked busy in the car, too. But then you're carefree enough to sneak from the shadows and pick up people from the streets and screw them over, in every sense of the wor... d... Wait, don't - _-_ "

Asami's fingerprints were all over his clothes, all over his skin; it would be something, watching it and himself under the string of light of the ultraviolet. The older man's hand followed snugly the mound of his ass above the square-pattern of his blue shorts before dipping inside and doing the same over his bare flesh, cupping the same place it had but a while ago, as if it had never left. And when Asami's tongue delved inside his earlobe, it seemed to say: _"Long time no see."._ Takaba shivered.

"I make my own schedule and I follow no one's rules but my own. You seem like a good hobby, though, I must say. That fire of yours will certainly keep pushing you into all kinds of interesting hell holes, seeing as you won't be a good boy and stick to adults' warnings. It'll be a good entertainment for myself. You see, overthrowing one fellow group after the other without some sort of change, nor challenge whatsoever, can be quite unsatisfying. Boring." Every word word spoken softly, but charged some sort of powerful electricity right into Takaba's neckline, where Asami rested his breath on.

There was no escape, not really, but Takaba wouldn't stop protesting just yet. He was outnumbered in his own territory; but then again, any place Asami stepped foot upon became his; probably any one, female or male, he laid his hands on became his too. Two against one. Outnumbered by Asami and by his own mind - _-_ that wouldn't shut up with snarks of: _"What are you saying no for? Weren't you just getting off on thoughts of him? Didn't you just pass out again with the pleasure he gave you? Hypocrite."_ He wanted it to shut up. He just wanted his own mind to _shut the fuck up_. Then there were hot lips on his, claiming, demanding, and he actually welcomed the distraction.

"Wha... what about the towel?", Takaba breathed out.

The blonde's sleep-clouded brain was still playing pranks on him because that low chuckle couldn't have been real. It _couldn't_. "Hm. We are going to get wet again, so there is no need for it."

As the taller man closed in on him, his confidence palpable, Takaba took a few steps back. A mental wince knocked into him, as he noticed he was unconsciously baiting Asami back into the bedroom. Suddenly his elbow was being gripped and he curled his fingers around the yakuza's bicep in reflex. "What..."

"Shards. From the glass you let fall before. Watch your feet.", came Asami's premature response, filled to the brim with amusement.

Takaba felt a full-body flush creeping from the roots of his hair and spreading all over. He glared.

*

Takaba's tank top came off, somehow. When he lowered his arms, he didn't know where to put his hands. He recalled the first two times, his hands bound; once by leather, another by tie. Today... today he'd grabbed the front of Asami's shirt; clung to it. He did the same now.

As they made out, he grasped a bit too strongly and ended up ripping a button off of the bleach-white shirt, exposing Asami's skin. It had been during that damned first time, where he'd seen that same amount of flesh of the other man's chest as the man himself had unbuttoned it. Not that Takaba had been able to appreciate the sight that first time, with all the until then unknown and unbearable assault of both pain and pleasure of such degree, the drug messing him up, and the fact that Asami was a _man_ and Takaba had never looked at men that way _before,_ and the very important detail that he had been on all fours being pounded into without restraint.

The second time he'd seen practically all of it; Asami's shirt open and falling to either side of his waist. He'd thought so before, in the middle of all his daze, how well build Asami's body was beneath that expensive suit; those surreal abs right in front of his eyes, as his hips were gripped and he was turned, no longer being fucked like a dog from behind in the floor of the bathroom from cleaning and disinfecting purposes. He was _dirty_ , he'd been told. Dripping water and soap, his wrists hugged against the faucet by a silky fabric, teased and distracted by searing kisses that he was - _-_ though he shouldn't be - _-_ getting much too used to. By the time they'd moved to the bed he was blinded, his vision polluted by vastly colored spots, not able to take in the sight of Asami stripped as naked as himself.

And the third time, just now, Asami had only touched his tie, yet again; but only gave it some distance from his neck, he didn't take it off and didn't tie Takaba's wrists together with it this time around. He had yet to see the whole of Asami's body as he had been seen himself from the start. Takaba unconsciously licked his lips and without thinking started unbuttoning the remaining of the garment.

Asami stood still and watched; wanting to see what Takaba would do, wanting to see just exactly how far this fascinating creature, that had captured his attention the moment he'd free-fallen into his range, would go.

*

The bed and Takaba moaned under Asami.

"Damn it... Do you - _-_ _Ahh!_ - _-_ do you fuck women like this too? I bet after the first taste they never make the same mistake aga - _-_ _Aahh!_ Fu...ck..."

"Why? Do you want me to fuck you like one? A minute ago you didn't even want me carrying y - _\- "_

"Fuck. _You_.", Takaba spat, but Asami just kept fucking _him_ instead. And he could feel it this time, everything, not a piece of cloth in the way, between them, interrupting the flow of heat.

Asami's moist lips brushing Takaba's dry neck, leaving wet red bites on creamy skin. "Well, to answer your question, even if I did, they wouldn't react like men do, like _you_ do. Because they don't have _this_." Pressing the word as he pressed inside, into _that_ spot, setting every nerve alight.

Takaba's throat was presented to a whole new state of raw as he spilled himself immediately, unstoppably, sticky into the sheets. There was a flood of warmth deep inside, and he blacked out.

*

When Takaba woke to piss, the black rectangular screen of his alarm clock sparkled five forty-five AM in bright yellow. His face scrunched in pain, in sympathy for his ass, as he rolled to sit up.

It was warm.

Slowly, he turned his head back, not knowing what to feel about the man still being there. His single bed was almost two small for him alone; there was no way it could feel comfortable with two people on it like it did. Asami was sleeping, soundlessly, hair free of the gel, features free of his control. The tips of Takaba's fingers twitched. _How would those locks feel like between us?_ , they whispered in his head. He frowned at the strange thoughts. Locked his vision on the sheets barely wrapped around Asami's nude waist.

"Why?", Takaba's voice so drastically low it was more alike to mouthing the words than speaking them. "Why did you stop the car? Why did you give me a lift? Why did you help me?" He closed his eyes, tight. Then he opened them. They traveled back to that handsome face. "Why?"

With Asami it was always all questions and no answers. He hadn't known the man for long but, by the experience acquired during their encounters, it was safe to say so. Takaba didn't know what this was; he just knew it was all wrong. The guy was, well, a guy, but that part didn't really bother him, not really. What mattered was that Asami was dangerous, a criminal, had raped him, had saved him, had done unspeakable things to him, forced him to feel things... _feelings_ that shouldn't be felt. Not like this. Not in circumstances like these. It was _sick_.

One of his feet found its way into his bedroom slippers, the other went bare, as the soles of them, dragging themselves through the cold floor, led the way to the toilet. No need to cover, no need for modesty; and he wasn't the type of weak person to link lack of modesty to lack of dignity.

Drip, drip, drip. It was uncomfortable to be standing, it burned inside and Takaba supported himself more on one foot than the other before switching. He heard a phone ringing and it wasn't his. He exhaled in relief. Flushing down, opening up the tap to the maximum, scrambling the contents of the cupboard to the side of the sink. The noise he was making didn't allow him to listen to Asami answering the call, re-dressing and slipping out. He was grateful for it.

Calculating the time, he stopped the self-inflicted mind-numbing and the unbecoming racket. Complete silence greeted him. Palms planted on the verge of the sink, head dropped, he breathed slowly, deeply. Then he looked up. At himself. Reflected on the mirror. He couldn't see. Couldn't figure out if it was the blur from the water on his eyes or the condensation from the scalding water having infused into the air all around, as well as on the reflecting surface. His hands burned red. He'd have to take cold water showers for the rest of the month.

The pillow received his head, gave him quiet softness in return. The scent lingering on it shouldn't be comforting, specially when it triggered soul-searching and guilt trips, and body responses he didn't care to either understand or explain. Not yet.

He reminded himself to follow Asami's advice this once, though; he couldn't keep jumping into the streets like that. He'd start looking carefully; one side, then the other. Then repeat the process at least three times. The road he was stepping - _-_ had already stepped - _-_ into was dangerous, and could only be crossed if he was sure there wasn't a black limousine transporting the man that was dragging him underground in sight.

_Because next time..._

Next time Takaba wouldn't be caught unaware. Next time _he_ 'd be the one tracking down the prey. Instead of being pulled down _he_ 'd be the one pulling Asami up, turning the lights on him, exposing him. And he'd even truly feed him to the dogs, like he'd promised, if he weren't an active participant in manifestations for the ALIVE (*).

_Yes. Next time._

He fell asleep hiding the hint of a smile.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (*) All Life In Viable Environment


End file.
